The Short Straw
by Alexannah
Summary: -ON HIATUS-
1. Finding Dumbledore

_**Summary:**__ When Vernon Dursley dies in a car accident, Petunia refuses to have Harry back and the Hogwarts staff draw lots to see who will take him in for the summer._

_**Rating:**__ PG_

_**Disclaimer:**__ Harry, Poppy etc belong to JKR._

_**Author's Notes:**__ Why are there so few fics with Madam Pomfrey in? She's one of my favourite characters. I have loads of Albus-Minerva-Harry fics, so instead I'm doing a Poppy-Harry(and possibly Aberforth) fic. Don't worry ADMMers, our favourite couple will still play a part!_

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**The Short Straw**

By Alexannah

**Chapter One: Finding Dumbledore**

_Your Uncle Vernon was in an accident last Tuesday and died. Dudley and I are going to stay with Marge. Find somewhere else to stay, she doesn't want you around._

Aunt Petunia

Harry blinked. The bluntness of the note stunned him. His uncle was dead?

As far as he was concerned it was no great loss. If it had been his aunt he would have been a little more sympathetic, but not much. The Dursleys had never cared much for him and he was only grateful for keeping him alive long enough for him to find Hogwarts.

But now he couldn't go back to Privet Drive, and term ended tomorrow. What was he supposed to do?

"Think, Harry, think," he said to himself. He couldn't just impose himself on Ron or Hermione, though he knew they wouldn't object, but it would be rude and he hadn't even met Hermione's family or half of Ron's. But who else would take him?

Harry slid down the dormitory wall, trying to run a list of names and places in his head – but he couldn't think of anyone or anything, except perhaps Mrs Figg, which he decided would be a last resort.

_I have to think realistically_, he thought. _What would anyone else do?_

He sighed. Anyone else would go to a teacher for help. Harry had always prided himself on not relying on adults for anything – perhaps why he hadn't gone to anyone about the Philosopher's Stone till the last minute. He never trusted adults as a child, and now at Hogwarts he did warily, the only exceptions being Hagrid and Dumbledore – Hagrid had a sort of childlike lovability to him, and Dumbledore … well, Dumbledore was Dumbledore.

Harry pushed the crumpled letter into his pocket and slowly made his way out of Gryffindor Tower before realising he didn't know where Dumbledore's office was.

"Great," he muttered. At the end of term all the teachers would be busy. By the time he found someone who could direct him to the right place, the train would be leaving. He kicked the wall in frustration.

"Something bothering you, Mr Potter?"

He jumped and whirled round. "Professor! Could you help me?"

"With what?" Professor McGonagall looked tired and was carrying a huge stack of books. "Term ends tomorrow, Mr Potter, and I am very busy -"

Harry cut her off. "I know term ends tomorrow, I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore. It's urgent."

She raised an eyebrow. "Am I allowed to inquire why, or is it still 'sort of secret'?"

Harry flushed. "It's not secret, just important. Please, Professor!"

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I'll take you to his office."

Harry followed her to a large gargoyle and extremely ugly stone gargoyle. She barked "Acid Pops!", which was obviously a password, because it sprang to life and jumped aside, revealing a rotating spiral staircase. He followed her up it until they reached a heavy door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. The room inside was beautiful, full of whirring contraptions and a large collection of portraits on the walls.

Professor McGonagall informed him Dumbledore would be with him shortly and left the room, leaving Harry on his own.

He took the opportunity to look around while waiting, and spotted the most beautiful bird he'd ever seen. It was red and gold with dark beady eyes and an intelligent – for a bird – face.

Harry moved forward. "Hello," he murmured. "Who are you then?"

To his great surprise it left its perch and settled on his shoulder. After a moment Harry reached out hesitantly to stroke the plumage. It trilled in delight.

"Harry?" Dumbledore's voice made Harry jump. The bird took flight in surprise, circled the office and settled again on its perch. Dumbledore had appeared from behind the magnificent desk, looking at him with a very strange expression on his face.

"How odd," he said, reaching out to pet the bird, who trilled in the same way it had when Harry stroked it. "Fawkes rarely lets anyone touch him. He must have taken to you strongly, Harry."

"What is he?" Harry breathed, staring at Fawkes.

"A phoenix." Harry's mouth fell open in awe. "Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing properties, and they make highly _faithfu_l pets." Dumbledore moved away from Fawkes' perch and sat down behind his desk. "Now, what brings you here, Harry? Is something the matter? Professor McGonagall said it was urgent -"

"It is." Now he was faced with asking, Harry felt very awkward. "Um …"

Dumbledore sat smiled encouragingly and offered him a sherbet lemon, which he refused politely, chewing over his question.

"I got this just now," he said finally, holding up the note so Dumbledore could see the handwriting but not the content. "It's from my aunt – my uncle died last week."

"Oh." Dumbledore suddenly looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Harry."

_I'm not_, Harry thought, before continuing, "They're staying with his sister, but she doesn't want me there, so I've got till tomorrow to find somewhere else to stay the summer."

"_Ah_." Dumbledore slowly removed his half-moon glasses from his crooked nose and began to polish them, apparently thinking hard. "And you don't have anywhere you could stay – no other relations of your uncle's, perhaps, or …"

Harry shook his head. "No-one."

"I see." Dumbledore placed his glasses back where they belonged. "I imagine you don't want to impose on your friends' families?"

He'd read his mind. "No, sir. Not unless I don't have another option."

"Understandable," Dumbledore nodded. "But that does make things rather difficult …"

"Please, sir, couldn't I stay here?" Harry suddenly blurted. At Dumbledore's hesitation, he continued hurriedly, "I wouldn't get in the way, I could just stay in Gryffindor Tower if I have to, and I'd get my homework done and everything and I could help the other teachers if you want me to be useful and -"

Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him. "Wouldn't you rather stay in a proper home?"

Harry just shrugged. Dumbledore sighed.

"I'm sorry Harry, but I can't let you stay here during the summer." When Harry was about to interrupt he held his hand up again. "It's the rules – hardly any of the staff are around during the summer holidays, three at the most, and I'm sure you would agree that in a place this size it would be very hard -"

"I wouldn't get in anyone's way," Harry said quickly, "and I'll stick to the common room -"

"I know you would, Harry, but these rules were not made to be bent on a case-by-case basis. Other students would not be as co-operative and the rules have to apply to everyone. You _could_ stay at Hogwarts, but first I would have to prove to the Ministry there was absolutely no place else, and for your own safety you would have to have a member of staff in the same vicinity as you at all times, and at least two others around in case of emergencies. There would also be a lot of paperwork involved and by the time you were granted permission the holiday would be over. I'm sorry."

Harry slumped into a chair.

"But," Dumbledore continued, "I'm sure we can work something out. Give me two hours and I'll let you know."

Harry blinked at the abruptness. Two hours? That seemed very little time … but Dumbledore was already standing up.

"Don't worry, Harry," he said kindly. "You'll have an enjoyable summer, mark my words."

-----

"There had better be a good reason why you summoned us all here, Albus," Severus grumbled irritably. "I'm trying to get a potion finished before term ends."

"Well, Severus, as I am sure you will have absolutely no interest in the proposal I am about to make," Albus' eyes twinkled knowingly, "you may go." He waited.

Severus gritted his teeth. The man always had a way of peaking his curiosity.

"Well, then," Albus continued, looking round at the rest of the staff, "it seems we have a homeless student on our hands."

You could hear the interest piquing.

"Without going into detail," Albus continued, "Harry Potter is no longer able to stay with his guardians – at least, not this holiday. And so he needs a place to stay."

Severus settled back in his seat. This should be interesting.

"What do you suggest, Albus?" Minerva asked.

Albus' eyes twinkled. "I had a feeling that a number of us would be interested, and so I prepared these." He held up a handful of straws. "No cheating. Anyone like to go first?"

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Harry had packed. He couldn't think what else to do. If he wasn't staying at Hogwarts then he couldn't leave his things behind. He filled his trunk like everyone else but stayed in the dormitory rather than drag it down to the Hogwarts Express.

"Harry?" He looked up to see Ron and Hermione watching him. "Where've you been?"

"Talking with Dumbledore about alternative accommodation."

"Huh?" Ron.

"The Dursleys don't want me back so I needed to find somewhere to stay," Harry explained.

"Why can't you come over to mine?" Ron asked, sounding hurt. "I was going to invite you both over anyway."

"Dumbledore's already said he'll organise something," Harry replied. Ron's face fell. "But I'd love to come over later in the holiday," he added quickly and Ron brightened.

"Well, that's all right then."

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked curiously. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. He said give him two hours and he'll have somewhere." Harry looked at his watch. "One left."

It was just as he said this that a knock sounded on the dormitory door. After exchanging puzzled glances, Harry said, "Come in."

"Ah, Harry." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as usual. "Er, Miss Granger, what are you doing here?"

Harry thought he could ask Dumbledore the same thing – he'd never seen him anywhere near the students' living quarters before.

"Oh," Hermione flushed. "Um, I was just saying goodbye. I'll just go," she said quickly and hurried out of the room.

"You've found somewhere for me to stay, Professor?" Harry said hopefully. Dumbledore smiled.

"I have. It's not far from here – actually, she lives in the village by the school, so you should feel right at home."

"Who am I staying with?" Harry asked nervously.

The answer took him by surprise. "Madam Pomfrey."

**TBC …**


	2. Finding Minerva

**Summary:** When Vernon Dursley dies in a car accident, Petunia refuses to have Harry back and the Hogwarts staff draw lots to see who will take him in for the summer.

**Disclaimer:** Harry, Poppy etc belong to JKR.

**Author's Notes:** Sorry, I didn't realise I hadn't made it clear in the last chapter: Harry's at the end of his **first** year. I've read DH and I have mixed feelings about the book. I shall not be putting DH elements in this fic, so no spoiler warnings necessary. Ooh, who laughed till they cried when Aberforth appeared …? (I swear I didn't get the idea from there! This chapter was already mostly written by the time I got that far in the book!)

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**Chapter Two: Finding Minerva**

The house was small, only two bedrooms, set just off the main street of Hogsmeade. Harry had never been to the village before and was curious to look around, but that could wait. Madam Pomfrey showed him inside and where everything was, apparently trying to keep a balance between her professional self and a polite host. Harry didn't mind, anything was better than the Dursleys. The house was very interesting: not having been in a wizarding house before, Harry couldn't help but be fascinated at the displays of casual magic all over the place, from the self-sorting cupboards to the talking mirrors.

The two of them paused outside the spare room. A strange noise was coming from within. Madam Pomfrey, frowning, opened the door and they both gasped in surprise. A goat with white shaggy hair was in the middle of the bedroom, chewing thoughtfully on the bedsheets. There was straw sticking to its coat and it smelled like it had used a corner Harry couldn't see as a toilet.

"Ugh!" Madam Pomfrey clamped a hand to her nose. "ABERFORTH!!!" She tugged on the animal, trying to get it to move, but no go. In the end she, after apologising profusely to Harry (who was quite enjoying the spectacle, minus the smell) opened the window and yelled the second word, which Harry guessed was someone's name, out of it.

A minute later Harry heard the sound of a door opening and closing and hurried footsteps coming towards them. A tall man with long grey hair and beard appeared in the doorway. He looked oddly familiar.

"Aberforth," Madam Pomfrey positively snarled at him, "what is that _animal_ doing in my house?"

The man looked from her to the goat, which was surveying them with a look of mild interest. "Minerva!" he exclaimed delightedly, throwing his arms around the animal's neck. "That's where you went!"

"Aberforth," Madam Pomfrey growled. "Get it out of my house this instant."

His sense of self-preservation seemed to kick in and he quickly said, "Oh! Sorry, I'll take her now." He made a clicking noise to the goat, whose ears pricked up. "Here, girl. Follow me."

"And you can clean up this mess as well before you go anywhere. Or I'll get your brother to do it. Or perhaps the _real_ Minerva. I'm sure she'll be flattered that you named your goat after her," Madam Pomfrey said sarcastically. Aberforth paled.

"Absolutely, right away, my dear Poppy. _Scourgify!_ There, all better."

"Get. Out."

He fled, Minerva the goat in tow.

Madam Pomfrey heaved a deep sigh and ran a hand through her hair. "My next-door neighbour," she explained to Harry. "He owns a pub in the next street and has about five goats. He's an absolute nuisance."

"He looked familiar," Harry mused.

"I'm not surprised. His brother happens to be my employer."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said in surprise. "I didn't know he had a brother."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "And a pain in the backside he is too. Aberforth, that is, not the headmaster. Well, I suppose I'll leave you to get settled in." She hesitated. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"While you're here, you can call me Poppy."

-----

Poppy, Harry decided, was much nicer than Madam Pomfrey. After asking him to call her by her first name, she suddenly seemed much more relaxed about his presence. Rather than cooking, as it was his first night there, she ordered pizza (Harry didn't even know wizards ate pizza, it had never been served at Hogwarts) and they spent a pleasant evening arguing over the best toppings. Poppy liked Hawaiian, Harry liked pretty much anything that didn't have pepperoni, anchovies or spinach. The pizza argument was followed by peaches and yoghurt and a discussion about the other members of staff. According to Poppy, Flitwick was part goblin, Dumbledore was addicted to anything lemon flavoured and Snape wore _Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle_ underwear. When Harry asked her how she knew this, she recounted the tale of Snape's first duel in Hogwarts in his first week, and he and four Gryffindors had ended up in the Hospital Wing, where she made them all strip down to their pants. After Harry recovered from this tale, Poppy started on another, when Professor McGonagall as a student used to fail Divination class on purpose. Upon asking curiously, Poppy told Harry that the two of them had been at Hogwarts together – and because the headmaster was a close friend of Professor McGonagall, Poppy was forced to tolerate Aberforth.

"He's a nightmare, but he has his moments when he's not too bad," she sighed. "If he didn't have that passion for goats he would be quite a sweet character."

Harry stored this information for future use. He suspected the wine Poppy had drunk with the pizza (he'd had pineapple juice) had played a large part in that admission.

It wasn't till she realised what the time was and shooed him to bed that Harry was left alone with his thoughts. As he unpacked Dudley's old pyjamas, he decided he felt more at home here than he had ever felt with the Dursleys. Perhaps not as much as Hogwarts, but it would do for now. As he turned the light off, he noticed a strange glow out of the window. Peering through the dark, he could just make out an outline of a tower. Harry grinned before drawing the curtains and climbing into bed.

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_"Kill him! Kill him!"_

Harry woke suddenly in a cold sweat, shaking all over. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was. He fumbled for his glasses and found them on a bedside table that was taller than what he was used to. After putting them on, he sat up and felt for a candle. There was no candle, but an oil lamp on the table. He lit it and looked around, remembering in a rush where he was, and relaxed. The chances of Voldemort turning up at the school nurse's house were slim.

He slid out of bed quietly and padded to the window, pulling the curtains aside a little to see Hogwarts. The night was beautiful and cloudless, the stars twinkling at him and the moonlight flooding the village of Hogsmeade and the little Harry could see of the school. He opened the window a crack to let a small breeze in and just stood looking out, his arms resting on the window-sill, the wind ruffling his hair relaxing him.

Where was Voldemort? What was he doing now? Was he trying to find another innocent to possess in an attempt to get to him again? Harry shivered, but not with cold. What were the other ways which he could use to return? The lone face had been bad enough; Harry dreaded to think what Voldemort would be like at full power.

_Hopefully_, he told himself firmly, _Voldemort will never return. Dumbledore said he might never return if he keeps being thwarted._ Harry closed the window and crawled back into bed, but he kept the light on.

-----

"You look tired." Those were Poppy's first words when she saw him next morning. "Did you sleep well?"

"Um, normal," Harry said, not really lying. He'd been having nightmares since the confrontation with Quirrell. He avoided Poppy's eye, thinking she knew he wasn't being entirely truthful. She didn't press the matter, but seemed to survey him suspiciously as she started on breakfast. Expecting the school matron to be all for muesli and fruit, he was pleasantly surprised as she took out a frying pan. Seeing his look, Poppy smiled.

"It's Saturday," she said simply as if that explained everything. "Do you want to help?"

Harry grinned. Accustomed as he was to cooking the breakfast in Privet Drive, frying bacon and eggs was something he could do in a wizarding house without feeling like an idiot. Although, he did feel a little useless when Poppy summoned the bacon from the pantry with a flick of her wand.

As the room filled with appetising aromas, the two of them restarted the conversation about the other members of staff from where they left last night. It wasn't just the staff either: Harry felt a surge of excitement when Poppy admitted she'd been working at the school when his parents were students.

"Did you know them well?" he asked eagerly.

Poppy laughed. "I should say so. Your father was one of my most frequent patients. He and his little gang of friends were always paying me visits for this and that." She sniffed. "Quidditch injuries, a lot of the time, but they were always getting into scrapes with other boys in their year. The number of times I had to remove an ill-performed jinx …"

"And my mum?"

"Oh, yes. She was a lot more careful, but I saw Lily on a regular basis too – she had both a fondness and talent for Potions, and in her later years she used to help me out. She wanted to be a Healer, you know," she added.

"I didn't know." An odd tingling feeling was spreading through Harry as he thought about the parents he never knew. He only knew what they looked like from the Mirror of Erised, and now Hagrid's photo album. Now he was receiving a personality to match to the images. "Did she become one?"

Poppy sighed. "No. She studied hard, and was qualified, but she decided that she wanted to have children first, and … well, she never got to go back. A waste if you ask me, she had so much potential. So many people's lives went to waste in the war against You-Know-Who, but not many of them had your mother's talent."

Harry thought about this as he and Poppy sat down at the breakfast table. He'd never really thought about what his parents' careers were before. "What did my dad want to be, do you know?"

"Oh, that I'm afraid I don't know. The way he loved sport I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to be a professional Quidditch player, but he had a number of interests."

"How many of the other teachers knew my parents? Would any of them know?"

"Well, Professor McGonagall was their Head of House as well – she would be the best person to ask, she would have given him career advice. Why don't you ask her when term starts?" Poppy looked over the table at his plate. "Aren't you hungry?"

Harry realised he'd been letting his breakfast get cold and hastily shovelled in a mouthful of egg to keep her happy. He was about to ask more questions, but the doorbell rang. Poppy motioned for him to continue eating and stood to answer. Harry swallowed thoughtfully, his mind wandering back to his parents. He didn't know Professor McGonagall knew his parents. He would definitely ask her once term started. And he could ask Hagrid what his dad ended up being. Harry liked the thought of the Quidditch player – it seemed to fit, somehow.

His thoughts were interrupted by Poppy coming back, followed by Aberforth Dumbledore. Harry looked up. Now he knew, he could see the resemblance between the brothers. They both had the same long nose and bright blue eyes.

"I keep telling you Poppy, _I'm sorry_," Aberforth pleaded. "It won't happen again, I promise – I've got a new lock on the -" he broke off, spotting Harry. "Oh, hello. I didn't realise you had a visitor, Poppy."

"Harry's staying for the summer," Poppy informed him, "so he might as well get used to your incompetence now. Harry, this is Aberforth. If he ever calls to ask a favour when I'm not around, the answer is no." She ignored Aberforth mouthing 'Incompetence?' at her in surprise and sat back down in front of her cold sausages. "You know the way out, Aberforth."

Harry felt sorry for the man as he visibly deflated, mumbled a goodbye and left, shutting the front door behind him. Harry looked at Poppy. "Last night you said he was quite a sweet character."

"I did?" Poppy looked surprised. "I said no such thing. And I meant what I said about not accepting favours. The last time I tried to help him with a charm we ended up being questioned by the Ministry for inappropriate use of magic. Honestly, the man's a nightmare."

"He can't be _that_ bad."

"He has good intentions," Poppy admitted, "but the execution is another matter. And no, I am not being mean, I am merely looking out for my best interests – and yours, now you're here," she added. "Fortunately he's not likely to rope you into some crazy experiment of his, because you're not allowed to do magic yet. But watch out all the same. His experiments have a history of backfiring."

Harry nodded seriously. "I'll remember."

The sound of bleating interrupted the conversation. Poppy furiously opened the window to bellow at her neighbour, who was trying to quieten Minerva the goat. Harry had a feeling this would be a very interesting holiday.

**TBC …**

**Review Responses**

**allenterrill:** There are plenty of Snape-guardian fics. I'm not complaining, I like them. If only Poppy got as much attention. Who said anything about Quidditch all summer? Poppy doesn't even like Quidditch …

**Bookworm622:** Yes, this is post-PS, but taking the other books into account except the last two, so it's AU.

**Kiss-this2010:** I thought it was obvious who Poppy's paired with … well, hopefully it is now.

**ReviewsGalore:** First, see my response to Bookworm622. So far there haven't been a lot of opportunities to give them depth, though I'm attempting to do so, particularly with Poppy. There's a little less dialogue in here, some more description. For the Weasleys thing, because it's set after PS, he's never stayed with them before and wouldn't feel comfortable asking them to take him in even for the summer. Thank you for the very constructive review, hope to see them continue!

**ImSoMMAD:** Well, you like ADMM (obviously), and what's wrong with Aberforth/Poppy? Or did you think it was Albus/Poppy? It's confusing them having the same initials.

**SeulWolfe:** See my response to Bookworm622

Thanks also to **anon, yellow notepaper, adge9631** and **Isabel Woods** for reviewing!


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